


Pain, Pleasure, and Mixing the Two

by AnAlias



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Incest, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sadomasochism, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAlias/pseuds/AnAlias
Summary: “When it’s all said and done. A kiss with a fist is better than none.”
Relationships: Lucifer/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 214





	Pain, Pleasure, and Mixing the Two

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is like my first Fan-fiction, I wrote this for/with a friend, but I hope it can be enjoyable. Also if you are reading these author notes but you don’t like incest it’s okay, but just hit the back button for me because the tags were warning enough...

Prologue

Lucifer does not allow himself to  _ not _ be the metaphorical “Straight man.” He chooses a path, and he walks on it. No matter how daunting, how daring; his resolve is absolute.

This is why (despite all of the instances the other seems to be bemused by his forthrightness) he and Barbatos get along. Besides his mutual feelings of servitude to his Lord, Barbatos understands what it means to be complex in the most simple ways.

Lucifer is a straight edged man with cutthroat ideals, and that aforementioned path he’d never stray from? It’s becoming a tight rope.

A noose— rather. Tied around his neck as he finds himself swayed by the unimaginative thrall that is, his dumbass younger brother.

Though his love, his power, and his soul, is pledged to his lord Diavolo, Lucifer allows himself _small_ pleasures.

He thinks—  _ knows _ his largest indulgence has been his _“velvet room.”_ What with it’s ghoulish, obscenities on display for anyone who should enter. Not that they would, because Lucifer wouldn’t let them.

No, Lucifer wouldn’t dare share this space with anyone, and that’s what he thinks as he sits on a well-placed chair, staring at a framed picture of his Lord and sipping the human wine he’d let ferment for a few millennia. _ Small pleasures. _

~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer lets his fingers drum impatiently on a firm arm, an eyebrow quirked as he stares down at Mammon, unblinking and stern.

His brother manages a blithe smile, barely any teeth and barely any innocence— if that was even the look he was going for. Mammon’s demeanor changes once again, and he’s blinking up at Lucifer, those pretty blue eyes staring up at him through a thick fan of white lashes. He pouts, and it only irritates Lucifer further.

“I thought I told you to stop wreaking havoc in the Devildom.” Lucifer speaks up sternly, his towering figure somehow looming something even more threatening and powerful. “It seems your antics aren’t just limited to here, but the human world too. You see,” his eyebrow twitches in vexation, red eyes glowing in the darkness of his shadow,”you’re incorrigible. I tell you time and time again—-“

“Yeah, Yeah! I get it! ‘Lord Diavolo’s honor’ or somethin’ like that. We get it…! You wanna kiss him all the time. But what’s it gotta do with what I do in my spare time?”

Usually Lucifer could tolerate his attitude, his bratty disposition and intolerable selfishness… but today…

_ Today… _

Today the noose feels frayed, like cheap rope that bites at the skin when you rub at it too much. He feels agitated, the itch in his fingers only partially satiated when he picks Mammon up and slings him over his shoulder.

_ “Allow me to show you the iron fist which I use to enforce Lord Diavolo’s honor.” _

It’s an endless journey from the front door to Lucifer’s room, and Mammon has put up more than a struggle on the way. He knows he’ll have fun punishing him for  _ that  _ too.

Lucifer lets himself through the door with the key in his right pocket, making sure to kick the door closed and sit Mammon on his feet while he turns to lock it. “You treat me like I’m some kinda dog!” Mammon quite literally barks, his expression equal parts embarrassed and angry. It’s like watching a flame flicker after you blow on it when Lucifer glares at him. Mammon goes still, his anger dying in his throat for all of three seconds that feel entirely too fast when the tantrum comes back tenfold.

“You can never mind your business, huh? You’re always tryna bend me over your knee, and for what? Cause Diavolo treats you like his lackey?!”

Lucifer does very well to make the ambiguity in his face present. He stares at Mammon with no tell-tale sign of emotion. This is the one, the look that always makes Mammon shut up; in this moment too, it does not fail him.

“…Sorry…” Mammon mumbles lamely.

_ “Sorry?” _ Lucifer says, surprised by the incredulous anger in his own voice and the power in it,”You’re going to be Sorry.”

Mammon feels the weight of that statement like a pile of bricks as he’s tugged bodily by his collar to a door. He makes as much trouble as he did on the way to Lucifer’s room, clawing at his older brother’s forearm and squirming for release.

Lucifer, irritated, gives one good shake hard enough to break a human’s neck, and Mammon loses his footing, stumbling over his own two feet.

When they enter Lucifer’s velvet room, his glass of wine is still unfinished, more than halfway empty on the lamped table next to his chair. He throws Mammon on the ground at his feet.

“Bro,” he sputters, his eyes squinting when Lucifer turns on the dim lights.

Mammon surveys his surroundings, his inhibition snuffed when he finally adjusts to the sudden lighting. First he looks at the BDSM paraphernalia: an array of whips, some with frayed tassels, a riding crop, two large paddles, one leather and one wooden, and a cane…

Mammon fixates on the cane for a few seconds, before staring at the handcuffs, Some fuzzy pink ones (probably a gag gift from Asmo), a set with supportive wrists for comfortable captivity, and of course the regular metal ones.

Rope, vibrators, bullets,  _ eggs?! _ , long objects with varying sized beads… Mammon saw a dildo the size of his calf in both length and thickness. _ A milking machine—- _

“Get up.”

Lucifer’s voice makes him jump, authority not quite reaching through dumbfoundedness. He brings Mammon up by his collar, shoving him bodily onto a sleek black table.

Mammon grunts as the rounded edge catches his hips and folds him on his stomach.

“Lucifer what is this?” Mammon’s voice is tinny and confused, but he doesn’t move. Mammon lets his chin rest on the tabletop, eyes closing briefly as he struggles to collect himself.

“Stay still, and speak only when addressed.” 

Mammon’s uncharacteristically quiet while Lucifer shackles his wrist to some leather cuffs. They’re attached by a chain to a secure part at the bottom legs of the table; and Mammon gives a jerk, testing it, and sighing when it fails to break.

Lucifer starts busying himself undressing Mammon from below the waist, watching Mammon’s ears go scarlet when Lucifer reaches in front of him and unzips tight blue jeans. He already feels the first tell-tales of arousal in the obvious tent in Mammon’s pants, and he smirks, leaning over Mammon to murmur in his ear, _ ”How human.” _

Mammon shifts, and breathes out. He can move his legs still, but he doesn’t, and that makes something sinister unfurl in Lucifer. His little brother really is the cutest when he’s obedient.

When Lucifer lifts himself, he finishes undressing Mammon, being careful to be as impersonal as he can.

_ There will be plenty of time to touch him later. _ He thinks, securing his ankles to the legs of the table.

The table is as narrow as a diving board, and long enough so that Mammon’s head doesn’t dangle off. The legs and corresponding cufflinks are designed to be height vary-friendly, and Mammon— not being long enough to span the entire length of the table— is a ways from the legs on the end where his head is. The chain compensates for that, and Lucifer enjoys hearing them rattle as he clasps the last leg down.

“Ngh,” Mammon makes a guttural sound of protest against the table, presumably humiliated from the way his ass is on display.

“Exciting, right?” Lucifer says, a flippant lilt to his voice, he circles Mammon on the table, assessing,”Open your mouth.”

Mammon’s gaze meets Lucifer’s, and he scowls before he complies, lips parted as the other reaches on a nearby shelf and grabs something. Mammon can see it before he can feel it,  _ A ball gag _ .

The weight of it on his tongue and the girth of it forcing his mouth open makes Mammon shiver. The gag in itself is a cold hard sphere of 100% plastic, and it grows warm over the saliva building up in his open mouth while Lucifer secures the gag behind his head.

“This is so you don’t bite your tongue,” he clarifies, moving back to the shelf to brush his fingers over a riding crop,”Although it’s good to hear you shut that petulant mouth of yours sometimes, this room is soundproof.”

Mammon breathes again, the air flowing around the gag and past the back of his teeth. Lucifer lets a gloved hand linger on a paddle, humming appreciatively.

Mammon turns his face down, his forehead pressed against the cold table. He doesn’t need to look up to know what Lucifer’s chosen.

“Are you feeling sorry, Mammon?” The bemused tone in his voice would piss Mammon off if he wasn’t so painstakingly aroused. The feeling of the paddle comes as a caress at first, then a hit hard enough to make Mammon’s teeth clatter. He’s suddenly grateful for the gag.

Mammon jolts, the impact sending him up on the table just a bit. Before he can even breathe through the pain of the first strike, he gets another one, his near soundless shout gaining an octave in pitch. Lucifer likes the way Mammon looks when he’s in pain, likes the way he sounds. There’s a sniffle down from the table, and this time Lucifer lets him rest.

He feels lightheaded in the way one does when climbing a mountain. The altitude and the lack of oxygen gets to you, makes you crazy. Though Lucifer could climb the highest mountain without even sweating, there’s nothing that could replace the type of fog in his head that comes from this. He gives another strike, his disposition impeccable still.

Not a hair on his head is out of place. He’s still fully clothed and just as he mulls over the scratches in his suit’s forearm from Mammon’s struggle earlier, he gives another ruthlessly vindictive strike.

Mammon cries out again, sputtering something incoherent around the gag as he trembles meekly. His fingernails are biting into the skin of his palms from how hard his fists are clenched.

Lucifer sees the way Mammon’s knee jerks, body trembling involuntary as he swallows air in through his whimpers; but really catches Lucifer’s gaze is the revealing dripping of cum onto the floor between his brother’s parted legs. It’s as though Mammon can  _ feel  _ the quality of the air shifting, knows that  _ Lucifer _ knows he’s hit his climax the hardest he ever has in his life.

Mammon sniffles again, and gets on his tiptoes, hips arching up as he presents himself to Lucifer for another spank. Mammon’s bratty, but his greed trumps all. He’s greedy for more, he's so greedy for everything; and that doesn't exclude sexual attention from his sadistic older brother who enjoys punishing him almost as much as he enjoys being punished.

Lucifer steps away, the cloud in his head growing denser like humid morning mist. He goes to the shelf on the opposite side of the room, picking up a vibrator and a fancy container of lubricant. It’s got legs on it like a claw foot tub with a spout pinched into the rim of it like a measuring cup. Gold accents curl around it from where the gold handle is attached. That’s as much as Mammon sees before his attention is totally caught by the vibrator, sleek and red.

“Do you like it?” Lucifer says, mirth evident in his voice,”Asmodeus gifted this to me.”

Mammon can’t imagine Asmo or anybody else really knowing about this room, but thinking about it now, sex toys seem to be appropriate for someone like Lucifer. Because even though Lucifer gives off the impression of untouchable frigidity, he was always looking for an excuse to put his hands on  _ something _ … that thing in particular just so happens to be his rambunctious brother.

Mammon can hear the sound of his heart pounding at his chest so loud that it almost drowns out the constant hum of the now-activated vibrator. The lubricant feels thin and cold when Lucifer pours it down his crack, so much so that Mammon jumps, squeaking in an undignified way.

He can afford to lose face at the hands of witches and bossy humans who made a pact with him and suddenly thought they were hot shit… but it seems as though Lucifer is the outlier. Mammon has never felt shame like this, sitting on him something heavy as lube drips down the back of his balls and hits the floor a short ways from the small puddle of his own cum.

Lucifer is as gentle as he wants to be, Mammon knows this. When Lucifer sits down the lube and Mammon feels a warm hand on the hot flesh of one asscheek, it feels reminiscent of soothing the burns of someone you set on fire.  _ No— it’s exactly like that,  _ Mammon thinks.

In spite of himself, he juts his ass out more, wantonly.

Lucifer’s gaze trails up and Mammon looks at him, desperation palpable.  _ He really does look Good like this, _ Lucifer drinks him in, and lets out a breath of self restraint when his eyes meet Mammon’s. Mammon has his chin tucked into his shoulder as he cranes his head to look back and up at Lucifer. His lips stretched around the gag and his hair tousled ungraciously is perfect. Mammon has a glint in his eyes as if he knows what Lucifer is thinking, and the flushed-face shame is snuffed just about instantly.

_ Brat. _

Lucifer wastes no time preparing his fingers with lube and being outwardly brutal in preparing Mammon. He insists on rubbing at his prostate, trying that spot just to drive Mammon up a wall— edging him until all he can do is tremble and keen. If Mammon could speak coherently, Lucifer’s sure he’d beg for forgiveness. It’s a pity he can’t though, really.

After stretching Mammon deep with 3 fingers, Lucifer supposes he can allow his brother the privilege of another orgasm.

The incessant _vrring_ of the vibrator becomes a sensation over a noise, the feeling of it reverberating in Mammon’s insides when Lucifer pushes it in. And Mammon lets his mouth relax around the gag as he single handedly makes the most noise he’s made all night.

He screams, quite literally screams, his body arching as he convulses and it’s like that for the five seconds Mammon’s holding onto his sanity before he comes for the second time. Lucifer chuckles minutely, when his brother hides his face again. He can’t tell if Mammon’s crying from the way his shoulders shake— because his whole body’s shaking—- but there are some tell-tale sniffles in between his gasps.

It only took 5 minutes of foreplay and 10 seconds of stimulation, his little brother really is all bark.

The vibrator favors a plug in the shape of a pill, and Lucifer has no trouble pulling it free when he notices Mammon crying even harder from the overstimulation. His fists are clenched from where his hands hang off the edges of the table, and he chokes on a moan when Lucifer lets him rest, the vibrator ceasing it’s humming.

If there’s anything Lucifer hates more than cleaning up other people’s messes (and being vulnerable in any way around Satan), it’s the effusive act of kissing. 

Lucifer knows he can not hide his love in his kisses, but he tries anyways, roughly grabbing Mammon by the jaw. He stares at him, looks at that flushed face with appreciative scrutiny. Mammon’s mouth is open unceremoniously, his lips dry, unable to be moisturized due to the gag between them prior. Lucifer tilts his face in to meet the other’s mouth, his grip unrelenting as he holds Mammon’s head up for it.

Lucifer loses himself again, hazedly, the aftercare kiss teetering on the edges of indulgence. _ Small pleasures _ , he thinks.

He knows he’s being a bit too sweet from the way Mammon all but moans into his mouth; and just for it, Lucifer gives a particularly rueful bite to the other’s lips, liking the responsive jolt he gets.

Mammon pants when they pull away, the quality of his flush different now, and Lucifer has to will himself not to smile. “I like that kinda treatment too, you know…? Your nice side.” 

Lucifer breathes out the heat in his chest when he hears that and clears his throat, embarrassed. _ I knew I shouldn’t have kissed him. _

“Yes well, you never seem to earn my clemency, now do you?”

“No.” Mammon says, quickly, and looks away,”I mean… We’d be on better terms if you got off my ass, but a part of me really… likes…” His voice shrinks, and Lucifer’s brows knit together, gaze astute,”What? Defying me?”

Lucifer doesn’t know why he’s shocked when Mammon stops and gives a bashful nod, but he is nonetheless.

He smiles blithely,”I suppose that’s my fault… I should stop kissing you after punishing you.”

“Mmm I like that though…” and Mammon smirks.

Lucifer rolls his eyes, unamused,”I know you do.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ending

Lucifer is aware of how his rendezvous with his younger brother could’ve gone terribly wrong. He ponders it while sipping tea (no wine because it’s still daytime) and sitting on the chair in his velvet room.

He’s glad it turned out this way, well, glad is an exaggeration. His bratty younger brother is still up to his neck in trouble. It’s as though Mammon can never do right by him. Always sacrilegious in manner, always infuriating in  _ some _ way.

Though… Lucifer has allowed himself to indulge in small pleasures. Like being pulled in for a kiss when no one’s looking, and being pulled into a dark corridor to kiss some more when that’s not enough. Mammon is the Avatar of greed after all.

One kiss, one lash, one brush of fingertips, one time is never enough for him.

It seems like the same can be said for getting in trouble.

Lucifer smiles to himself, looking at the large picture of his Lord past the lip of his teacup.

Complacency is a drug.

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially supposed to have Mammon coming a third time after Lucifer fucked him but, um... this has been in my drafts so long like this with a big gap where they were supposed to have sex, but I had written so much already I decided not to let it sit away without sharing.


End file.
